


Cover Me Up

by thedeadflag



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Feels, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Trans Female Character, muffing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 21:05:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12240582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeadflag/pseuds/thedeadflag
Summary: Clarke and Anya are best friends. Most days of the week, you'd find them crashing at each other's places, cooking meals for each other, holding cheesy Netflix marathons,  going out running together, and all the typical things one might find two friends attached at the hip doing. On top of that, sometimes they do wind up attached at the hips, having ran with a friends with benefits arrangement for a few months now. But Anya's hungry for more, and Clarke's still struggling with her sexuality too much to be open.When Anya makes herself vulnerable one evening after their late-February midterms, she learns she's far too invested not to get hurt, leading her to wonder whether to cut bait and seek out something real with someone new, or to see if there was any chance at being more than friends with Clarke.





	1. The Catalyst

"...and so Cos is just really, really excited about the winter showcase. She's a lot more modest, but I'm pretty sure she has a chance at winning it so long as the judges can recognize her brilliance." Lexa rambled on the other end of the phone line, Anya in complete agreement over Costia's praises. The woman was a prodigy with the cello, and deserved all the acclaim Lexa heaped onto her.

"I'm sure they'll see how good she is, Lexa. Don't stress about it." Anya added on, knowing Lexa would probably worry enough for both of them in the end.

"Speaking of stress, what do you have planned now that your last midterm's over?" Lexa's question had blood rushing to her cheeks, Anya thankful her cousin was over a thousand miles away and unable to see, because Lexa would have started a full-on inquisition over the response.

Anya took a breath, waited until her voice would be calm, and hoped that the delay sounded more like she'd been in thought rather than delaying the inevitable. "I'll probably spend the evening curled up with Clarke, watching Netflix."

Of course, that wasn't the entire plan. The Netflix and cuddling would come around later, after the sex, but she still looked forward to a night of laughing at B horror movies with her best friend.

"Oh, come on, live a little. You _always_ go the hermit route with that girl. Last weekend, you two spent all Saturday baking, and the weekend before, you had a movie marathon and redecorated Clarke's living room. You live in Polis, Anya...there are better things to do than spending the night in with the straight girl across the hall." Lexa wasn't wrong, not in the least, but it didn't change that she'd committed to her path already, and it was only reasonable to see it through.

And really, Clarke wasn't so straight these days. Not that her friend would openly admit as much quite yet to the general public, but she had confided in Anya about her bisexuality two months back. There was definitely something non-hetero going on between them, even if Clarke wasn't up for admitting it yet. Even if Clarke insisted she wasn't ready to act on her attraction to non-men, fucking another girl for fun wasn't something straight girls did.

Or, well, Anya was pretty sure they didn't, and since Clarke wasn't a cissexist douchebag, it wasn't like Clarke saw her as a man, or male. They'd gone over that sticking point enough times for Anya to be sure of that much, Clarke passing with flying colours despite her bumbling if ultimately accurate attempts at using the right language and terms at the start.

"You know me. I'm a homebody. I keep to myself, and my people, and Clarke's my people. I promise I'll get adventurous when opportunity knocks, but for now...I just had two midterms today. I'm wiped, and having a lazy evening with a friend sounds just about right to me." Anya argued, feeling a rush of success at Lexa's subsequent sigh, knowing this particular argument was won.

Just in time for her to hear the telltale sound of her front door's knob sticking a bit, impeding Clarke from entering as it did about forty percent of the time. "Anyways, I gotta go, I'll catch up with you on Sunday, okay? Love you."

"Love you, Anya. Have fun tonight." Lexa offered before ending the call, Anya already halfway across the living room as she slipped her glasses on, striding the last few steps to the foyer. She checked herself in the mirror briefly to make sure she looked as intended before setting her focus on the door.

With a practiced push and twist, the doorknob turned, Anya stepping back quickly enough to not get barrelled over by a visibly fuming Clarke. "Bad day?"

"Organic chemistry can suck a fuck!" Clarke growled as she stripped off her winter coat and beanie.

Anya made her way deeper into her abode, knowing exactly where this would end up, so there was no use pretending otherwise. "How does one suck a fuck, Clarke?" She called out at the doorway to her bedroom, earning a hard laugh for her efforts.

"Don't be a smartass." Clarke shot back, dropping her bag on the living room couch.

"Too late for that, I fear. It's far too easy to poke fun at your love of pretentious cinema, but I suppose so long as you don't dress me up in a bunny suit and call me Frank, we'll be fine, you and I." Anya quipped, grabbing the four towels she kept on standby and covered the bed with them, setting up two layers.

Honestly, if Clarke didn't pay for her laundry, their little arrangement would maybe be more costly than it was worth, given its frequency. She'd suffered the bizarre experience of buying twenty-four towels in a single go over at Bed Bath and Beyond, and Anya was certain she never wanted to endure that sort of curious scrutiny ever again.

"Treading in dangerous waters, there, babe. Your mouth is writing checks your ass can't cash." Clarke let out, rummaging around in her bathroom at the moment. Probably looking for lube.

"I think we're both aware my ass can handle quite a bit." Anya stood at the end of the bed and leaned forward, pressing her palms down on the toweled bed, assuming the usual position.

In an ideal world, she would have kissed Clarke at the door, would have guided Clarke into her bedroom as she peppered her grumpy girlfriend's face with kisses, would have let Clarke touch her all over knowing it'd help cheer her up. Then they'd go at it like rabbits, snuggle up afterward, and enjoy a quiet cuddly night in.

The reality managed to be just different enough to strip away that warm dreamy bliss, even if it wasn't the worst thing in the world to be friends with benefits with the illustrious Clarke Griffin. As much as Anya yearned for a girlfriend she could pour her love into, yearned for a girlfriend who would allow Anya to kiss her, a lifetime of touch starvation was enough for her to settle for fuck buddies.

At least, for now, until she found something better.

"Mmmn, I suppose we do, don't we?" Clarke's voice was closer now, all low and warm with amusement, preceding the hand that smoothed across her hips and over her ass. "God, I love your bubble butt."

Clarke's hand was gone for a fraction of a moment, but Anya knew enough to brace herself. The flat of Clarke's hand impacted against her right cheek with a loud smack, sending her body jolting forward a bit, a soft gasp tearing from her throat, more from yearning than any sort of pain. Her thick, wool skirt kept her insulated from that much.

"Maybe you should _look closer_ , American beauty." Anya quipped, earning another swift spank, the press of Clarke's frame against her back leaving her body buzzing, aching for contact. They were one thing Clarke had picked up on over the months, realizing Anya had a fondness for that brand of foreplay, quickly implementing them into the majority of their little encounters, even if sparingly most times.

Clarke's breath was hot against her ear. "That film was a masterpiece. _Behave_."

"Or what, you'll spank me?" Anya asked, giving her ass a little wiggle against Clarke's hips. The sharp inhale whistling through Clarke's teeth had her feeling a little pride in the reactions she could elicit.

Ever since that hack traitor to LGBT people everywhere came to campus and outed her at one of his speaking events, her dating pool had dried up. More than that, any time she wore anything remotely sexual, the grossed out and unnerved expressions would exponentially outweigh the few appreciative stares. Not that she fished, not usually, but she wasn't about to let transmisogyny dictate what she wore on a daily basis. Sometimes she liked feeling pretty, or sexy, even if no one else thought so much of her.

And Clarke? Well, she'd always thought Anya was pretty, and her constant affirmations helped Anya believe it on days when she herself didn't feel it.

"No, you'd _like_ that, wouldn't you?" Clarke asked, nose trailing a path down her neck as an arm wrapped around her waist. At least Clarke's anger was gone now, even if a little more of her favourite foreplay might not be in the cards just yet. A little sexual teasing always drew Clarke away from her stormier moods. "No, I think if you keep acting up, I won't let you have a taste. You'll have to _watch_ me instead."

The whimper that escaped her might have had her face bright red with embarrassment in just about any other situation, but damn it if she didn't love eating Clarke out. She always tasted a little sweet, and Anya loved how it felt with Clarke above her, grinding that plump little pussy down on her face.

The thought of having to sit and watch Clarke get off was torturous, and had her stomach twisting into knots as words scrambled up her throat and into her mouth to be freed. She'd worked too hard today, enduring two midterms, to lose out on part of that intimacy she yearned for. "I'll behave, please..."

"Well, since you _did_ ask _so_ nicely..." Clarke started, the hand at her stomach moving to slowly undo the buttons of her blouse. "...and since you're rocking that secretarial look I adore on you...maybe I'll let you earn it back. But you have to be _good_ for me."

"Since when am I ever not at my best?" Anya asked, peeking over her shoulder and cocking a brow at her friend.

Clarke just laughed as she stepped away, giving her ass another smack. "You know full well that's not what I meant, sweetheart." Clarke smoothed a hand over her backside and gave a firm squeeze. "Now, let's see what you've got for me under here."

If there was one thing she learned about Clarke over the past four months of fooling around, it was that the girl was a fan of undressing her. There was something about the pageantry of it all that appealed to Clarke, and well, Anya wasn't one to get in the way of that. She trusted Clarke with her body; her heart was another matter, but when it came to sex, she knew Clarke would never hurt her or disrespect her, and that was more than enough to play along with the achingly slow striptease of her meticulously prepared aesthetic. Besides, Clarke was always _very_ appreciative.

"Now ease up for me, pretty girl." Clarke cooed, a hand rising up to her throat, the gentlest pressure there guiding Anya upright, her hands and arms away from the bed now, enough for Clarke's other hand to pull her undone blouse free.  "There we are." Soft lips pressed at the crook of her neck, forcing another gasp from her throat as her balance wavered on her heels.

Kisses were a bit rare, so much so that Anya found herself fighting for breath, forcing all of her dormant fantasies and dreams back into the dark corners of her mind, knowing today was no place for them. Not when it was only Clarke who could initiate, and never on the lips.

The pet names helped make up for it sometimes; she could at least cling to those as a temporary balm for what she lacked. Sometimes they were spoken so sweetly they might as well have been kisses, even if that might be a bit of a dangerous interpretation.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Clarke whispered as she undid the hook and eye clasp of her skirt. Anya wasn't certain she had enough oxygen in her lungs to get her words out loud and clear so she just nodded, letting out a hum, Clarke waiting for the noise before carefully lowering the zipper to where the garment hung loosely on her.  One swift tug had it falling to the floor around her feet. "Damn, you went all out today, didn't you? _Good girl_."

"Mmmn, you weren't the only one with midterms, Clarke." She lifted her feet one at a time when she heard Clarke kneel behind her, letting her push the skirt to the side and run a hand up the back seams of her stockings. "I felt like celebrating."

"Lucky me, then." Clarke let her hand run all the way up to the tops of her thighs, one slipping between her cheeks to prod lightly at the anal plug there. She could hear her friend's laboured breathing clear as day. "Did you really go commando to your midterms today?"

She hadn't, since midterms weren't a time for stilettos, stockings, and tight skirts, but there was no harm playing into Clarke's breathless question. Clarke had always had a thing for public displays of affection, and her exhibitionist streak ran deep. It was hardly unfair of her to play on the latter when Clarke wouldn't and couldn't offer the former. "Why do you ask, darling? Do you think I'd cause a scandal, slowly writhing in my seat, feeling the weight of the plug shifting, pressing against all the right places? Do you think anyone would notice that my lube was seeping out of me and into my skirt?"

Clarke's hands dug sharply into her hips, the sting of nails against skin causing her to let out a short hiss of discomfort. Clarke's grip slackened just enough to rid the pain without dulling the clear need behind it, a rare second kiss to her shoulder only spurring her on as her heart rate jumped.

"Do you think any of them liked what they saw, Clarke? Do you think any of them knew they didn't stand a chance with me? That for all the torturous hours of work and studying leading up to the midterms, all I could think of was having you _inside_ me again?" There were a few other lines on the tip of her tongue just waiting to be let loose, but they were dashed by the swift precision of Clarke's index and middle fingers slipping into her inguinal canals.

"You're killing me, baby, you don't play fair." Clarke whispered, pressing right up against her back once more as she started a slow, sensuous rhythm with her fingers.

"That your way of saying I have no honour?" Anya shot back, lifting a hand up and back to run through Clarke's hair.

"No, it's just me knowing you're trying to get me hot and bothered." Clarke laughed, her left forefinger finding that glorious little spot that always managed to make her legs weak. Within a second, Clarke spun them around, sat herself on the end of the bed, and perched Anya on her lap, letting her continue her ministrations safely. "You okay?"

Clarke's fingers were everything she needed inside her at the moment, their deliberate, firm pressure within her cunts warming her body with arousal as they worked at her inner nerves, readying her for the rest of their session. "Mmhmm. And... _please_ right there, firmer, please... _thank you_..." Anya started, earning a happy hum from Clarke, nose nuzzling between her shoulder blades. "As for getting you hot and bothered...did I?"

Clarke's left hand disappeared momentarily, Clarke squirming a little underneath her, but then it was back, all slick and sweet smelling. "It's like a damn waterfall down there, sweetheart, and it's all your fault."

Anya bit back a moan at the thought of such treasure being so close but out of reach. She held out a hand to the side and wiggled her fingers. "May I help?"

"Not yet. You stay still...and maybe tell me what you were daydreaming about in the middle of your midterm, hrm?" It was a question that had Anya thinking, which was already hard enough with Clarke's ministrations working her body into more and more of a sensitive mess.

Maybe Clarke really did think she went out to take her midterms in what she was wearing. Maybe she didn't. Either way, that didn't matter as much as Clarke's fantasies. If her friend wouldn't allow reciprocation, and she rarely did, then Anya would do what she could to make that more palatable.

Not that Clarke hated being touched; no, she just preferred Anya reciprocate within the boundaries of a few specific acts, and Clarke would often be so focused on Anya throughout that by the time things got around to her, the med student wouldn't be nearly where she could be. It'd often resulting in less satisfying romps for the both of them, Anya so focused on wanting to please but unable to muster much, and Clarke rushing through everything and not communicating her own needs.

Except Anya had done a little research; Lexa would call it snooping, but it was mostly just an innocent glance at Clarke's browsing history the last time she was over. A few websites stood out, and after checking in on them when she got back home, she'd learned a few interesting things about Clarke. Namely, a few sexual interests, which got her thinking that maybe it was time to escalate things a little. And just yesterday, the fruits of that labor had arrived, setting the stage for today.

"You were so obnoxious, taunting me to start with...pointing out how short my skirt was, how my blouse was too thin to hide the lingerie beneath...you ensured I felt every bit the tease that I was." Anya started, knowing Clarke liked a bit of a relative slow-burn, liked when Anya detoured a bit with a bit of flavorful details before getting into the smuttier parts. The gentle press of Clarke's forehead pressing against her neck was all the proof she needed that her friend was right where she wanted her.

"And then?" Clarke's words came out low and smooth, like velvet, her skilled fingers slightly picking up the pace.

Anya pushed past the haze of arousal to find her voice again. "And then...then I'd feel your hands snake down my sides, one smoothing across my garter belt, my stomach, while the... _mmnh_...the other dipped beneath my skirt to my core." Anya continued, biting back a whimper at a particularly electric thrust against her inner walls. "You promised me...promised I'd... _oh god_ , Clarke..."

"Use your words, sweetheart." Clarke let out with a low laugh.

Anya lowered a hand and smacked at the side of Clarke's thigh. "Then let me speak without rubbing _directly_ at my damn g spot, darling. Use the area around it, and build towards it slowly, please. Better that way."

Clarke's fingers shifted ever so slightly, but it was enough to help. Not that it hadn't felt nice, but her ilioinguinal nerves were curious little things, and they felt much better in closer stimulation when she was all fired up. Whereas, when she was just starting up, it mostly just felt sensitive as hell; alright, but far too sensitive to really function all that clearly.

"So...I promised you something?" Clarke got them back on track, a third kiss to her shoulder igniting the embers inside her, a barely stifled sob collapsing behind her teeth at the affection. As much as she yearned for more, it was much too frustrating to put up with, so Anya pushed forward, needing to find Clarke a distraction, another avenue to express herself.

"You filled my pussies with your fingers and promised you'd screw me faster, harder, with each answer I got right." Anya let out in a moan, Clarke's nose trailing deliciously down her neck. "I _aced_ it. And I sat there writhing for over half of it, your fingers and this steel plug destroying me in a field house with hundreds of people around me. I was dripping wet, darling..."

A cry tore from her throat as Clarke's teeth bit down into her shoulder, the mix of pain and the pleasure from Clarke sucking hard at the aching shoulder and ramping up the rhythm of her fingers sparked her first orgasm of the evening. It was small, and weak, but it let her know her body was ready now, ready for more, ready for what she'd planned.

"And I had to...I had to get up in the middle of it...to get a washroom pass...just to... _god_...to clean up. I behaved, Clarke...I was a good girl, and I bargained with you." Anya added, moaning at the absence in her right inguinal canal, Clarke's right hand rushing up to her chin to tilt her head back.

"That doesn't sound like me." Anya wasn't entirely sure Clarke wasn't about to bite her again, so she rushed her words out, not really wanting to test her friend's general impatience.

"You rejected even the concept until I brought up my new toy, and...and what I'd provide you." Anya spoke quickly as Clarke's fingers pressed at her jaw, the pressure relieving slightly as Clarke's unspoken question hung in the air around them. "It's under the bed, darling."

Clarke's nose trailed up and down her neck slowly, hot breath washing against her tender skin. "Is this not _enough_ for you?" Clarke whispered, surprising her a little at the audible fear and doubt in her words. The silent added question of whether Clarke was enough for her. Which, romantically, of course she wasn't, but she was more than a good fit sexually, and Anya yearned to express that.

Were they in a relationship, she would have turned in Clarke's lap and peppered her face with kisses until she understood that everything was fine. Instead, Anya found herself unsure exactly how to prove Clarke was enough without breaking her rules.

In the end, the rules mattered less than Clarke. Anya gently took hold of the hand at her jaw, detaching it from where it rested and brought it an inch or two across to her mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to her palm. "I adore these hands, Clarke." She noted with all the confidence and certainty she could muster. "They're skilled, they're safe, they're so soft and smooth, and they've brought me dozens of screaming orgasms. I adore your hands, Clarke. I adore _this_."

"Anya, _behave_..." Clarke let out in a stern, strangled moan, and while she was unsure what was twisting or tormenting her friend, she knew something that could cheer her up despite the warning, something that could make her feel like a queen again.

"I'm going to leave for a moment. Please trust I'll be right back here in your lap where I belong, okay?" The only answer was Clarke's left hand removing itself from inside her, but it was enough for her to clamber off her friend's lap and kneel at the end of her bed.

Her toy collection wasn't enormously extensive, but it was more than enough for her, especially with her newest addition. Anya pulled her toy chest out and opened it up, feeling Clarke's gaze hot against the back of her neck. With her body blocking the view, Anya pulled the strap-on she'd assembled late last night from her collection and turned her body to face Clarke, hand holding it up in offering.

"Anya, _sweetheart_..." Clarke stared down at the harness and dildo in wonder for a few long seconds before turning a more concerned glance her way. "Are you sure?"

Anal had always been something Anya kept to herself, a solo endeavour she took great pleasure in, one of the few sex acts where she felt comfortable having complete control. She'd tried it with a few partners in the past, but none of them had panned out, and she'd generally ended up hurt and regretting the experience most of the time. It was one thing she'd held a soft limit on when she and Clarke set out their ground rules on their dynamic, with the idea that sometime in the future, maybe she'd let Clarke share her ass.

And well, four months later of exceptional sex and Clarke never once breaking her trust, and always striving to be respectful and caring?  That warranted an opportunity to see if maybe Clarke could get it right when others couldn't. That maybe she could give Clarke control safely, where others had abused that power.

"I trust you." She spoke with a nod, smiling when Clarke accepted the offering. Hands free, she grazed her hands up and down her friend's calves. "I was such a good girl today. I behaved, I aced both of my midterms, I cleaned up and prepared myself, and waited patiently for you arrive."

"You don't have to convince me you deserve this, sweetheart." Anya swallowed at the conviction in Clarke's voice and nodded, happy for that reassurance even if it wasn't exactly what she'd been aiming for. Truth be told, she needed a boost in confidence more than anything else at the moment. But of course Clarke noticed the tiniest downturn of her lips, always so perceptive. "And you've been _so good_ today. I'm proud of you, Anya."

Some people liked dirty talk. Some had foot fetishes. Anya?

She had a deep, intense praise kink, so the ripple of pure pleasure that rolled through her at Clarke's words wasn't unexpected in the least. Some psychotherapist might say she developed it after a childhood of being the 'brilliant child', who then struggled late in high school and in post-secondary, and had to reshape her entire approach to education early on in university. After years of being the disappointment compared to her siblings, the only better feeling than acing her schoolwork was the praise she could get from others. And Clarke was all too happy to heap it on her when she'd earned it.

Clarke let out a low whistle as she turned the harness around, inspecting it from all angles. "Jesus, this dildo is massive. Are you sure this is safe for you?"

"I have a larger one I use regularly enough. I just...this one's more designed for sex with a harness, and there's less that could go wrong. Trust me...I can take it." Anya answered, shooting Clarke a bright smile in hopes it would disperse any of her lingering fears, even if she wasn't entirely wrong to exercise caution. Anya had spent years working up to where she could take something of such size.

Clarke's cheeks bloomed red, teeth gnawing down onto her lower lip as she hazily held Anya's gaze. After a few seconds, her friend snapped out of it and let out a short laugh. "God, I don't know what I'm more surprised about, how weird it is to learn you're a size queen, or to know you trust me to...to _satisfy_ you in that way."

"If you're having second thoughts about this..."

"No!" Clarke blurted out, stilling the words in Anya's throat as she gauged Clarke's expression for any insincerity. "No, it's...it's just I'd like, fantasize sometimes of taking you with my Feeldoe, you know? Like, shit...I could _kill_ a man with this thing."

Anya rolled her eyes and fought the urge to take it back. "That's hardly true."

"If it was a little firmer I could totally crack some skulls." Clarke insisted, before catching wind of her growing annoyance, her friend's expression softening in turn. This was, after all, a really major offering, a huge show of trust. Clarke cracking jokes and expressing doubt really hadn't been the response she'd expected or hoped for, even if she probably should have expected it. "Hey, look, I'm just...a little overwhelmed, and surprised, and...well, _excited_. Just a little nervous about disappointing you."

Anya reached and took the harness from Clarke's hands and set it on the bed beside them.  As she'd promised earlier, she climbed back up onto Clarke's lap, perching herself sideways this time. "You won't disappoint me, darling." Anya murmured, lifting a hand to Clarke's cheek to smooth away some of the tension there. "You care about me. You're too attentive to fail me. So long as you listen to me, and pay attention to me, and be your usual charming self...I'll be in good hands. I've been hurt before, but I'm not afraid of you, or this, Clarke. So please don't worry yourself so much. I trust you."

For the briefest of moments, those beautiful blue eyes dipped their focus down to Anya's lips, and Clarke's head inched closer, moment by moment, stilling the breath in Anya's lungs, frozen by anticipation.  Four months of sex, of being friends with benefits, and Clarke hadn't caught any feelings for her, hadn't once shown a hint of maybe getting rid of that one major hard limit. It was so dangerous to hope that her best friend could be into her that way.

And when Clarke shook her head and returned her sapphire gaze to Anya's, that glimmer of hope was thoroughly dashed, only confirming that she was the one that needed to reel back a little more, to protect herself. Clarke was safe for sex, would never hurt her knowingly, and that meant sticking to the rules.

Anya could do that. She certainly knew Clarke would. It wouldn't be a life-altering experience, but it could still be more than a little enjoyable.

"Then why don't you go take care of your plug and get prepped for me, while I find a way to toss on this harness, okay?" Clarke suggested, hand rubbing at the side of Anya's hip.

Reluctantly, Anya slipped off her lap and took hold of the harness once more. "Don't skimp. I know they're unsightly, but use the shoulder straps. They keep everything in place and give you some extra support. You'll need them for this."

Clarke rolled her eyes but nodded, leaving Anya feeling comfortable as she left the bedroom and crossed the hall into the bathroom, hoping the evening ahead would live up to her expectations, while knowing she'd have to tamp down on those a bit when things got underway, not wanting to let her heart drown out the warnings of her head.

* * *

 

Anya leaned up against the wall beside her bedroom door, listening to Clarke struggle with the harness, muttering curses and letting out annoyed huffs as minutes passed. It'd been easy enough to prep herself, it wasn't like she was new to anal, so she didn't mind a little waiting if it meant protecting Clarke's pride.

However, after five or so minutes of waiting, she could feel that arousal from earlier starting to fade off, and while she could maintain with a little self-stim, she really did want to get the show on the road. Ultimately, she hoped Clarke wouldn't mind the intrusion as she opened the door and stepped back into her room, Clarke staring at her like a deer in the headlights.

Honestly, she nearly had it right, the thigh straps apparently giving Clarke some trouble for whatever reason. "Let me help you with that, dear."

"I've almost got it, you don't..." Clarke started, but then Anya was kneeling in front of her, hands caressing up her legs, working to draw out all the tension that had built up while she was gone. "...okay. Thanks."

"Of course." Anya noted simply, repositioning the harness' straps and slipping them through the closures, adjusting the fit. "It's important you're nice and snug. If the harness was loose, and the toy slipped around, then you wouldn't be in full control, would you?"

"N...no. No, I guess not." Clarke let out as Anya moved to her other leg and started reworking that strap. "I mean...I don't _have_ to be in control. It's not a big deal."

Anya finished with the strap and leaned back on her heels, staring up at her best friend. "Darling, we both know that's a complete and utter lie." Clarke's face twisted, mouth opening as if to protest, but at Anya cocking her brow, the woman remained silent, just a whole lot redder. Internally, Anya checked off a victory, havening called that one right. "It's fine. I _like_ the idea of you taking control. I trust you, and if being in control makes it all better for you, then that's what I want."

"But this is about _you_. I want this to be good for you. I want to fuck you, yeah, but I want you to feel _safe_." Clarke insisted, all words she'd heard before, if perhaps not all at once.

Clarke could be so stubborn. Maybe it was the pot calling the kettle black, but she really did need to relax and be a bit more flexible in thought. "The two things aren't mutually exclusive, Clarke." She leaned forward again, pressing her cheek to Clarke's leg, nuzzling her as she loosely wrapped her arms around it. "You'd never want to hurt me, would you?"

"Of course not! You're...you're my best friend, I could never do that!" Clarke blurted out, lowering a hand to run through Anya's hair, the gentle pressure of her fingertips sending a delightful comforting warmth rippling down her spine.

"So take control. I trust you not to hurt me. The ways I react, the sounds I make, the words I say...they're simply cues, Clarke. They show you what I like and what I don't. I trust you care about me enough to avoid or stop things that hurt me...that's something we both don't want. But past that...have your way with me." Anya smiled against Clarke's leg at the sharp gasp that escaped her friend, happy to know her research paid off a bit. Clarke's desires mattered, too, and if that meant handing over all the responsibility of the session to her friend, and making it clear that power transfer was in both of their interests, then she was happy to do so. "I know you care about me, you want what's best for me...that's all I need to know, I don't need any more than my trust and faith in you. You don't need my permission to screw me into the mattress, darling. All you need to do...is to reach out...and _take me_."

The hand in Anya's hair formed a fist and tugged downward, forcing her to meet Clarke's eyes. "Duly noted. Anything I need to know about this thing, sweetheart?"

Anya tilted her head towards the oversized dildo hanging at attention between Clarke's legs, running her nose across the head of it. "It's not your dick. It's not your cock. It's not a him. It can be an extension of your will, or not, but the quickest way to turn me off would be presenting yourself as a woman with a penis when you're not."

"Figured as much. Just wanted to hear it from you, babe." Clarke said with a smile, head tilting back a bit. "Now get up here, I have unfinished business with you."

"Oooh, that sounds _serious_." Anya let out in a purr, getting to her feet, only then noticing her toy chest had been brought up to rest on the bed. Maybe she was a little intrigued.

"See, I was thinking that I haven't shown my appreciation for you as much as I could. You've put a lot of thought and effort into our little arrangement, and I think you've earned a reward for being such a good girl. Don't you?" Clarke asked, walking around the bed. She popped open the box and began pulling out a few toys she'd never had the opportunity to use before, never having had a partner willing to use them on her.

Anya sat on the end of the bed and crossed her legs. "I try to stay humble, but fail." Her airy words had Clarke laughing as her friend picked up her thigh cuff set.

"And I like that about you, so I don't want you to lift a finger tonight. In fact..." Clarke started, picking up her spreader bar kit with her other hand. "...I don't want you to concern yourself with anything but enjoying every shred of pleasure you've earned. Alright, beautiful?"

Anya bit her lip and nodded, holding Clarke's warm gaze. "Where do you want me, darling?"

"Grab two...wait, three of your pillows and get on your back." Clarke's order was simple, filling her relief at the image it left in her mind. She'd halfway expected Clarke to start in doggy-style. Truth be told, she really did want to see Clarke's face to start with. And she had a feeling that it'd be a much more powerful experience for Clarke to see her unravel face to face.

The ease in which Clarke handled her toys had Anya feeling she had a little experience in this, quickly setting her wrists and ankles in the leather cuffs, and then securing each to the padded spreader bar Clarke settled in under her hips. With another pillow behind her hips, and two secured under her head, it gave Clarke a great angle for entry, and would ensure her friend would see every bit of pleasure that washed over her face in the process.

By the time Clarke was looking down at her, Anya's body was trembling with need and anticipation. She could feel the lube she'd applied slowly seeping out of her ass, and her core was leaking fresh arousal down her thighs. Her heart rate jumped as she watched Clarke stroke a generous amount of lube up and down the long, ridged shaft.  Anya's first instinct was to reach out with a leg and try to pull Clarke in, but the bar held steady, only the light jangling of chain alerting Clarke to her attempt.

"Patience, sweetheart. I know it's not your strong-suit, but you'll be rewarded soon enough." Clarke's words only had her letting out a frustrated moan as the girl brought the tip of the dildo between her cheeks, teasing her by rubbing it all around her sopping wet entrance. Clarke's hands spread her thighs wider, hands caressing from her knees down to her hips. "You're _mine_ tonight. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Clarke." Her words escaped in a sharp whimper as Clarke pushed the head into her ass just enough for muscles to spasm and grip before pulling back out. "Please..."

"You can ask as nicely as you like. Tonight, we're doing this my way. Do you understand?" Clarke asked firmly, drawing another nod from her. The slap against her ass stung and had her jolting from the sudden impact and spike of arousal, needing to catch her breath as Clarke leaned over her. "Use your words. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Clarke." She'd no sooner spoken the words when Clarke pushed into her, Anya's back arching as she gasped.

It was only the first inch and a half, maybe two, and it only got thicker from there on out, but it was a rush to know it was someone else doing it to her, and not herself. That it was Clarke impaling her, filling her up inch by tantalizing inch, the delicious pressure so familiar and yet foreign enough to fuel her roiling excitement.

Clarke pushed in a little further, receding another half inch before the next, and the next, falling into a slow, relentless rhythm, the ridges of the toy only cementing the feeling of Clarke taking her completely as they grabbed at her insides. Even breathless and lightheaded from the buzzing arousal coursing through her body, Anya held Clarke's gaze all the while, needing her to see what she was doing to her, needing Clarke to see that Anya was hers, even as the pristine fullness had her eyes fluttering while Clarke's grew wider.

"Holy fuck..." Clarke let out as the hilt of her harness met her ass cheeks, Anya breathlessly writhing underneath from the mixed urges to enjoy the supreme fullness and her need for more friction. "You took it all. Look at you, babe...you're fucking glowing."

Anya laughed and grinned, knowing it was probably just the lighting and her blushing mixed in with her glistening body, but it was nice to hear nonetheless. "Please, Clarke...I need you..."

Usually, when going solo, she'd give herself a little time to adjust to the fullness, and then slowly fuck herself on her chosen toy, but with her body restrained, she couldn't do much of anything, not even play with her breasts like she usually did.

No, she was entirely at Clarke's mercy, and that new realization of helplessness had her cresting with arousal, a traitorous whine burning up and out of her throat from the scorching need pooling in her core, knowing only Clarke could give her what she needed.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. Tell me how you need me." Clarke demanded, giving her an in for offering some suggestions. She wasn't so sure what Clarke's experience was in anal play like this, so she went with some basics.

"Please, the...the same way you went in. Pull back a bit, thrust to hilt. Pull out more, thrust back in. Pl... _please_ , I need you to fill me, over and _over_..." Anya let out hastily, and apparently that was all Clarke needed to hear to get started, drawing out an inch, the ridges of the shaft grinding against her p-spot. "Oh, _fuck_..."

The smack to her ass came harder this time, aligning with Clarke's thrust, the pain and pleasure shooting a spike of blinding arousal up her spine punctuating in a strangled cry.

" _Language_. You're my good girl, behave yourself." Clarke grit out with a hard, short thrust, the lube from earlier spurting out from the force. "God, look at you, taking all of me in, swallowing me up like this. You're _already_ close, aren't you?"

Anya nodded and let out a hum, the only sound she could muster as Clarke slowly receded, those goddamn ridges and bumps forcing a sound out of her that she didn't even recognize, all squeaky and sharp.

The next spank seared her left cheek this time as Clarke thrusted deeper inside of her again, that squeaky sound reeled back in by Anya's sharp gasp. "Use. Your. Words."

"So close, d...darling, _please_..."

"You must have been working at this for a long time, haven't you? Bit by bit, day by day, working up in size?" Clarke spoke as she reeled back again, smoothing a hand over her increasingly tender ass. "Did you ever dream of this? Of me fucking you with one of your toys? Filling you up? Ravaging you the way a needy little tease like you deserves? Ruining you for anyone else?"

It was getting harder to think, to focus, with each subsequent motion bringing her closer and closer to climax. It was strange, she could usually milk a few orgasms out of her suction-cup behemoths before starting to feel a little hazy, but it was coming on much faster this time around, her head feeling all light and warm as she stared up at her lover.

"Uh huh... _mmmmh..._ " Her teeth bit hard into her lip as Clarke thrusted into her again, burying a good five inches back in on that one, forcing her to take a breath before continuing. "God, every time I...oh god...I put in a plug or one of the toys I think of...of..."

"Say it." Clarke ordered, the flat of her hand smacking hard against Anya's ass as she impaled her again.

"Y...you! Darling, _you_..." She let out in a cry, finally failing to hold Clarke's intense gaze, eyes rolling back into her head from the sheer pleasure. " _Clarke_..."

"God, let it out, baby, air it all out...last night I was thinking about our last time, and just remembering you crying my name got me soaked, so don't fucking stop." Clarke spoke as she reeled back once more, the tip of the dildo stilling just past her slick entrance. "You have no idea how beautiful you are right now, laid out like you are, all blushing and breathless."

A smile stretched across her lips, and with the pause in action she could will her eyes to roll accordingly. She couldn't let Clarke think her words perfectly hit their mark. As much as she might like to, it was just a little too dangerous. "Fairly sure I'm...well, a sweaty mess, dear."

Clarke rammed the dildo deep inside of her all the way to the hilt, stealing a cry from her lips. "You're glowing, babe..." She let out with a laugh. "...all sweet and sticky..." Clarke pulled out, leaving the tip just inside Anya's ass once more for a moment before thrusting forward again. "...and so fucking wet for me!"

" _Clarke_..." The name was torn from her lips as Clarke began a steady and powerful rhythm, Anya's hands straining at her chains as greed overtook her, needing more, goddamn _more_.

Anya ached more than ever to touch Clarke, to feel her soft curves and the deceptive strength beneath. To feel those toned arms wrap her up all safe and secure. To feel that sharp, pretty mouth collide with her own in a kiss, pouring every ounce of desire and yearning into Clarke, needing her lover to take her, to consume her. To become one mass of tangled limbs with two hearts beating as one.

She trusted that was exactly what Clarke was doing in her own way, and perhaps building towards, barring that last bit, but she'd never been very patient, letting out an unashamed whine at her need to hold Clarke, to touch her, going unfulfilled.

Fingertips pressing at the bottom of her jaw were just enough for Anya to cast her bleary gaze ahead of her, catching sight of Clarke's warm baby blues as her friend pistoned into her again and again. "You're mine tonight. And you're beautiful. And I'm not gonna stop fucking you until you believe it, sweetheart."

The sheer intensity sparking in those sapphires had her heart soaring just as quickly as her arousal, ascending higher and higher, past previous crests. The thickness of the toy, feeling Clarke move inside her with such passion, the sweet sounds of Clarke goading her on, it all had her usual filter falling away. Every gasp and moan, every mewl and cry, every pleaded _Clarke_ as if she were on her hands and knees in front of the cross, begging for salvation. They all fell out of her, Anya lacking the strength and will to stop any of it.

It was only the sharp, acute impacts against her ass that let her know her sailor's mouth was out in force. It was so hard to think, hard to keep track as her ass was lit aflame, the stinging ache burning stronger as Clarke's thrusts grew more aggressive.

Anya held onto her consciousness like a life raft, hands stretching to claw at the towels beneath her, body on edge and burning with pleasure. She needed release, some semblance of mercy because her heart felt like it was about to give out, the border between pain and pleasure was blurring hard, and her eyes had long since rolled into the back of her head. It all hurt so damned good, but she needed release.

It was within reach, she just needed that one final step. "...ohgod...oh _fuck_..." Anya muttered, earning another smack that sent a ripple of burning arousal through her. "... _please_ , Clarke, please..."

It took her a moment to realize one of Clarke's hands moved to her stomach, gently rubbing there in time with her thrusts. She'd always been a sucker for massages on her lower back and abs, and Clarke was often happy to provide that for her, especially when she was feeling down.

"Anya, are you okay? You're _crying_..." Clarke let out, and Anya didn't need to see Clarke to know her face was knit in worry.

"H...happy tears, I...I just... _god_ , please let me cum, Clarke... _please_...." She begged, back arching at the sudden impact of Clarke's hips against her ass, the sheer force knocking Anya off the cushioned spreader bar for a brief moment before Clarke hauled her back into position, hands gripping at the sides of her hips.

"Say the magic words, sweetheart, and I'll let you cum all you like." Clarke cooed, her pace picking up, Anya's wet, raw ass smacking against the harness enough to spur her mind into another gear.

"Mmmmnh, god, I... _oh Clarke_ , I....god, you're so good inside me, I need you here, I...ffffffff _fudging_ need you here forever, Clarke, please!" She rambled, unsure what to do but just let her words fly as cleanly as she could muster, needing to know how Clarke made her feel, needing Clarke to know how much she needed her. If that wasn't enough to earn an orgasm, Anya wasn't sure what would. "Please, I...my ass is yours, I'm yours, and ...ohgod... _ahhhn_...and I ffff _fmmnh..._ I feel so beautiful when I'm one with you!"

Clarke slammed into her again, her harness meeting Anya's ass with a loud, wet slap, but this time she didn't recede, finally letting Anya's scorched lungs and desert of a mouth draw in a deep breath.

"Tell me what you need, Anya." Clarke ordered, one hand reaching forward to press a hand against her left breast, thumb rolling at her nipple and sending a shock wave of pleasure through to her core. "One last time for me, sweetheart."

The swift, precise invasion of Clarke's left index and middle fingers into her right-side pussy had her crying out, arching into the touch, the immaculate fullness in her ass combined with the dextrous skill grazing that special spot in her canal was exactly what she needed to start to crest.

"P...please let your sweetheart cum! Pleasepleaseplease, Clarke, _please_..." She begged, just so damn close, needing her lover to get her to the finish line, needing Clarke to help her along one more time as her body writhed and trembled, wracked with too much pleasure for her to process.

"Then cum for me, Anya, _let go_..." Clarke voice trembled as she reeled back and gave one final, potent thrust into her ass as her hands worked magic, the sensory overload driving Anya over the edge as profanities spilled from her lips. Her body tensed and convulsed, hips rocking erratically against the thick pressure within her, the wetness of her arousal leaking out to coat her abs, thighs, and Clarke's hand. Through her cries, she heard Clarke call out for her, voice all high and squeaky, broadening Anya's smile at the vague knowledge of Clarke's climax, that they'd come together.

Not the way she'd dreamed of for so long, but for a moment, they were one, and Anya fixated on that as Clarke resumed her efforts once more.

The haze from before rolled in hard, Anya barely registering the hand leaving her breasts as Clarke worked her through her orgasm. The swift spank against her ass did nothing to bring her back around. She felt the sting as sharp as any other before it, the deep aching burn piling on to the fire the rest of the swats had ignited, but it felt a mile away as her body rolled over the edge, muscles convulsing as she trembled into a second orgasm from Clarke's magic fingers, the faint sounds of Clarke's name spilling from her mouth barely penetrating the blissful haze.

Everything fell away into a narrow focus; Clarke's presence inside her, the pleasure of Clarke claiming her, the delectable sting of Clarke's hand at her ass, and most importantly, the comfort of knowing she was safe and secure. That Clarke had her, and would keep her safe and cared for.

Anya was weightless, drifting, knowing Clarke had made good on her promise; she'd never felt so beautiful, so blissful. Not in memory, and it was all thanks to her best friend, to the woman who had claimed her, if only for tonight.

She wanted more, but she'd settle for a night together, at least for now.

A night of Clarke desiring her, ravaging her, claiming her. A night of Clarke praising her, unburdening her, protecting her. A night of Clarke bringing her to the cliff's edge and jumping off with her, over and over, bringing them closer, closer, closer.

Maybe she hadn't been a fool to believe it was possible.

Anya smiled to herself at the prospect as Clarke fueled her bliss and satisfaction with every thrust of her hips, her fingers. She could feel her arousal building towards a crescendo again, but it was comfortable now, knowing Clarke was there to fall with her and catch her. She could feel her body shift, her stiff, aching limbs lazily flailing and getting repositioned. Anya felt her cheek pressing up against the satin cover of her pillows, hands wrapping around her ankles for stability, the cushioned bar under her hips again, her nipples finding friction against the towels beneath them with each thrust.

No more spanking, but she was plenty warm anyways, and when she felt so full, and good, and beautiful, and happy, she couldn't muster a thought over what more she could ask for. Pure bliss, it turned out, was severely underrated.

Anya wasn't certain how long they'd been at it when she felt fingers knit with her right hand, drawing her out of the nice, warm, cozy bliss and back into the bedroom, finding herself on her back again, trying to will her eyes to open.

Her hand, unrestrained to her surprise, being lifted had a faint jolt of curiosity filtering through her cloudy mind.

The soft press of lips, Clarke's lips, had her eyes bolting open, the air around her snatching the breath from Anya's lungs. "There you are, sweetheart. Thought I lost you there for a second."

All Anya could do was stare at her hand, knowing Clarke had never kissed her there. Her shoulders, her neck, her breasts on occasion, but never her hand. It was far too intimate, so maybe Anya couldn't quite keep her heart from beating out of her chest, or her eyes from welling with tears again.

"Never been better, darling. Just...lost myself in feeling you." Anya spoke after a few seconds of catching her breath.

Clarke's thumb, all tender and wonderful, wiped at her eyes, clearing her vision up to see her much relieved lover glowing with pride. "As big of a boost as that is to my ego, I think I'd rather have you here with me."

Anya nodded and gave her hand a squeeze. She knew it was needy, that maybe it was too much to ask, but she wasn't sure there was any other way, not with that haze rolling back in. "Hold my hand?"

Clarke's free hand gently caressed her cheek, those blue eyes flitting down to her lips again and again. "Always, baby. For you? Always." The happy sigh that escaped her had Clarke grinning brightly, moving the hand at Anya's cheek back to her own groin, working it beneath the lower portion of the harness for a moment before drawing it back out, all wet and glistening. Anya could already smell Clarke's arousal, but seeing it had her licking her lips in anticipation. "You've been such a good girl for me. I'm not finished with you yet, but I think you've earned a taste."

She opened her mouth, granting Clarke's fingers entry, her tongue lapping around the digits, not bothering to fight the moan that she let loose. Anya loved how sweet and tangy Clarke was, how heady and thick her aroma was.  Tasting Clarke was a divine experience, and she wanted to savor each and every second of it, taking her sweet time with her best friend's offering.

Clarke pulled her fingers out practically the moment she finished up, shooting a sly little smirk her way. "Now, why don't we finish what we started..."

* * *

 

Anya angled her head slightly to the side, enough for the juices blocking her nose to seep off to the side a little, giving her just enough of an airway to swallow the load in her mouth and not suffocate. She let out a laugh, coming out more as a snort mixed with a strangled grunt from the liquids blocking her passages and just the pure exhaustion. She'd never been so damn wiped.

It was so worth it, though, as she licked her lips and wiped her hand over her face, gathering as much as she could to lap it up, not wanting any to go to waste as Clarke flopped down beside her.

"Holy shit." Clarke let out, sounding halfway amused, halfway in awe. "How do you always get me to squirt? Barely happens with anyone else."

Anya just hummed, licking up the remains on her hands and arms. She'd done well. She'd made Clarke happy. She'd earned a nice restful evening.

"I had the right inspiration." Anya murmured, checking to make sure she hadn't missed any before curling up against Clarke. As the high from sex started to wear off, she found herself chilly and trembling. An entirely unusual mixture, but she chalked it up to exhaustion and twitchy overspent muscles more than anything. Still, wouldn't hurt to seek out aid. "Can you hold me, please?"

"I should probably head back to mine to clean up...wouldn't want to mess up your bed..."

"I don't care, I'll do the laundry on my own dime." Anya blurted out as Clarke started to move away, her body tensing at the prospect of her best friend leaving.

Clarke hesitated, but nodded. "I just gotta go to the washroom, and then I'll be right back, okay?"

She nodded, knowing she probably looked like an idiot, all moon-eyed and smiling, but with every second that ticked by, she became more and more convinced that she needed Clarke with her. She needed to be in her arms. She needed her presence, if not her arms wrapped around her, keeping her all warm and safe.

Each second Clarke was away felt like an eternity, a worrying revelation that dragged, and dragged, eyes glued to the entrance of her bedroom, yearning for Clarke to come back.

It felt much longer than it probably was, Clarke eventually returning with her phone in one hand, some cloths and hand towels tucked under her arm, and a bucket of warm sudsy water in the other. Clarke helped her discard the soaked towels into her laundry bin before joining her in bed, meticulously rinsing and drying off the necessary areas before settling in under the duvet. Her more soiled, wetter duvet, but it was still the comfiest place in her apartment.

Anya had just snuggled up against Clarke, head resting on her collarbone, when Clarke's phone buzzed. She could feel Clarke's attention shift away, but willed herself not to be envious, knowing Clarke had just given her the fucking of a lifetime, and was literally in bed with her all cuddled up.

She rested there quite content as Clarke texted away, letting her best friend's heartbeat lull her into relaxation, knowing there was nowhere she'd rather be in that moment.

"Hey, babe?" Clarke asked, attempting to comb a hand through her damp sticky hair before bailing on that and just cradling her head instead. Anya let out a questioning hum. "Finn's having a few people over for a post-midterms thing. Are you gonna be okay here? Want me to start a bath for you before I head out?"

Anya used every shred of strength left in her body to hold back the whimper clawing at the bottom of her throat at her casual dismissal. As if what they were recovering from had been the same as a quickie on the kitchen counter. As if Clarke hadn't promised Anya was hers tonight.

She wanted to wrap her arms around Clarke and never let go, to keep her there, needing Clarke to hold her and soothe her aching body, to help her recuperate after their time together.

Still, Clarke was her best friend, and was her own woman. She made her own decisions, and Anya had to live with that. And with so much of her comfort and confidence having ridden on the notion that Clarke had committed to spending the evening with her, of Clarke having connected with her at least on the matter of staying together and Clarke giving her what she needed, it was hard to offer up any resistance as Clarke untangled herself and got out of bed. Hard to put up a fight with your heart torn out.

"I, uh...I'll be fine. Have fun." It was about all she could manage as she wrapped herself in her duvet, her body already starting to tremble from the oncoming chill washing over her.

"I will. I'll catch you later, okay? Maybe Sunday?" Clarke asked, sinking Anya's heart even further at the unspoken knowledge that Clarke would be spending the night, and Saturday, with Finn.

"Yeah, okay. Night." She called out as Clarke left the room with her discarded clothes in her arms. She hoped her friend couldn't hear the sheer emptiness driving her words, but she needn't have worried, Clarke offering a silent wave as she departed.

And just like that, Anya was alone.

"Damn it." She choked out, hands white-knuckling her sheets as tears clouded her vision and steamed down her temples. She was stronger than this. Or, at least, she thought she was, but she was just so cold, and so tired, and so sore. All she wanted was to be held, soothed, but she was all alone, just like she had been before Clarke arrived. Empty, miserable, and alone.

Anya clenched her eyes shut, fists pounding weakly against her mattress as she let out a groan. "I can't keep doing this to myself..." She mused aloud, knowing it'd never been this bad in the past, but most times left her feeling a little hollow and lonely, and she deserved better.

Her friend Raven had repeatedly tried convincing her to set up an online dating profile, that her friend would even put in the grunt work herself if need be. It wasn't a great idea, given all the chasers and inappropriate comments she was sure to get, but it was better than this.

Anything was better than how utterly hollow and desperate she felt in the moment. All those previous feelings of bliss and beauty while in the midst of sex had faded; as she wiped at her eyes and cheeks, she could feel the sticky mix of sweat and Clarke's arousal still caked across her pores. It had her recoiling in disgust and biting back a sob, knowing she was the furthest thing from beautiful in the entire world. There had to be something better than this. Better than the lonely misery coiling inside her chest, squeezing her heart like a vise.

Anya curled up as tightly as she could in her duvet, trying to leech as much comfort and warmth from it as she could. For now, she'd rest up her exhausted aching body, or try to, knowing she should get to the shower eventually to wash the evidence of the evening's activities away. After such a draining, abysmally disappointing night, she hoped she had the strength to manage at least that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was an interesting enough writing exercise. I hadn't written smut in a bit, so I decided to hop back in, toss in some more or less unfamiliar elements, and to find a way to get through this half unscathed with a decent enough scene. Writing sex without involving kissing is, as it turns out, a lot harder than I thought it'd be, and I sort of cheated a bit on that to get around some of the trickier spots. I wasn't sure where to post this, given it's not a real serious fic of mine (otherwise I would have, like, tossed 10k or so into establishing their friendship before the sex), and just more of a practice fic to shake off rust, so I didn't want to toss it in So Far Around the Bend. Settled on giving it its own space.
> 
> Anywho, I hope to get to the second portion soon enough (might end up being a third part if need be). I hope someone out there found something of value, some semblance of enjoyment here. I've never really been able to gauge the quality of my sex scenes on my own, so I just hope it's not entirely catastrophic, haha
> 
> I hope everyone had a fun weekend! Happy October!


	2. Recovery

Never let it be said Raven Reyes wasn't a dedicated friend.

It was ten o'clock on a Saturday morning, the morning after the final day of midterms and the subsequent party, and she'd driven all the way across town through traffic to see to a loose friend of hers on request of one Clarke Griffin, who was otherwise occupied. Or, well, Raven suspected as much, given she and Finn had stuck around after the party had ended around two.  She was pretty sure they weren't platonically hanging out and fawning over Finn's mediocre record collection.

Truthfully, she only did it out of a sense of respect that Finn had waited as long as he had after breaking up with her to finally make an attempt at Clarke. And Clarke being one of her closest friends, the blonde's happiness meant something to her.

So when Clarke asked her to check on Anya the next morning, a girl she was friendly with even if not to the point of regular hangouts, it was hard to decline, even if she knew Anya could generally handle herself perfectly well.

Raven remembered how to get in from her brief time crashing at the apartment, finding the spare key wedged underneath the doorframe's crowning. The knob was a little stiffer than in the past, but it only took a few seconds to figure out how to get it turned, letting herself in. She'd tried to get a hold of Anya through phone, text, and social media to no avail, so while it was a little risky entering without permission, maybe she was a little worried.

Anya could be a bit of a snarky, standoffish bitch on her worse days, but she'd been well worth the effort if their past encounters were any indication.

Clarke had been so wrapped up in her finals last April when Wick finally escalated his abuse and hit her. It'd been Anya, midway through a session helping Clarke study at the time, who had caught her text, having held onto Clarke's phone to keep the pre-med student from getting distracted. It'd been Anya who had brought her home to safety, letting her eat Anya out of house and home, letting her take the bedroom, letting her stay as long as she needed, keeping her company in simple silence when she'd needed it.

It had been a rough eleven days back then, and Anya hadn't spoken to her about that time since, but Raven was still grateful. The effort wasn't lost on her, and as she stepped into the low-lit, silent apartment, she hoped that the twisting in her gut was off today, that she wouldn't be paying back that generosity, but the living room alone told her not to get her hopes up.

Anya liked candles on the oversized chest she used as a table in the room, and she'd never let them burn down to the base, certainly would never let her table get covered in wax. Meaning, Anya forgot to put them out, which was not likely, knowing the woman's attention to detail.

The remaining option had her making a beeline towards the bedroom, the stink of sex slowing her pace as she neared. Raven blinked and shook her head at the potency and peeked in, spotting a single lump in the bed in the dimly lit room. At least she wasn't interrupting.

"Anya?" She called out clearly, not really in the mood to ease things out if her friend was hurt. "Anya, are you awake?"

A groan from the bed was proof that if she wasn't before, Anya was now. However, instead of reaming her out like Raven expected, she watched the woman pull the covers over her head. Bizarre wouldn't begin to describe it, which was the main reason Raven strode closer, unsure how to handle the situation. Anya was nothing if not direct and blunt. Evasive wasn't a word she'd ever thought would describe the woman.

Her foot caught on something decently heavy, a weird padded log stranded on the floor. On closer inspection, a padded spreader bar. "The fuck...?" Her eyes trailed over the area, spotting some leather restraints before fixating on a discarded harness with a terrifying beast of a toy secured into it.

Panic tore through her, and before she knew it, she'd climbed up onto the bed and threw off the covers, needing to make sure Anya wasn't split in two. Thankfully, her friend was in one piece.

Unfortunately, she looked like she was on death's door, which wasn't much better of a state. "Where does it hurt? Come on, talk to me, cheekbones."

"Go away." Anya's voice was so weak that Raven could barely hear her, those usually intense brown eyes all dull and half-lidded, all puffy and blood-shot, messy with last night's eyeshadow and mascara smudged and streaky. Raven hadn't ever really seen it in person before, but she was pretty sure there were dried tear tracks on her face, and that was doing all kinds of fucked up shit to her heart as her brain tried to find explanations and answers for what happened and what to do. "Don't look at me."

She cursed her leg in that moment, knowing she'd otherwise pick Anya up and carry her somewhere better lit to help her clean up, but she just didn't have that strength and stability at the moment. Not in this position, at least.

"Just worried, mama bear. Are you okay? Can you move?" Raven decided on sticking to those two questions for now, hoping something simple could start them off.

"What part of go away do you not understand?" Anya turned her face to halfway bury it in her pillow. There were other ways of shutting Raven out, much more effective, easier ways. However, thinking back to the restraints, maybe some of those weren't so accessible.

"The part where that doesn't answer my questions. Look, I won't judge you for the kinky sexcapades you had with whoever you had it with. I just want to get you cleaned up and back to good, okay? Can I help with that, or are you gonna delay us by snarking at me some more?" Raven asked, settling onto the spot in the bed beside her, angling her head to try and catch even a shred of eye contact.

If she had any prior expectations that this would proceed as things had in the past, they were shattered by the soul-wrenching sob that tore out of Anya, the pillow not near enough to muffle the pain. Raven's arms were around Anya immediately, shuffling her closer along her side, careful to position herself on her back and Anya atop her, having a feeling about what her situation might be like.

"Shit, air it out, cheekbones, I've got you." She murmured into her friend's hair, the fact that Anya smelled like a peak-Van Halen tour bus hardly registering against the multi-layered fear and panic erupting in her mind. She pressed a kiss to Anya's forehead more out of raw instinct than anything, but with the way Anya curled into her after that, arms sluggishly gripping at her, Raven's mind started to piece together what happened and how to fix it.

As far as preliminary expectations went, it wasn't great, and her heart hurt at the prospect, but she could at least do something. There was nothing worse than feeling useless.

"No judgment, okay? I just need you to hum or nod for me if I'm on the right track, yeah?" Raven let out softly, pressing another kiss to Anya's head and earning a slow nod in return. "You had kinky sex last night, and you were on the receiving end, weren't you?"

Anya nodded again, this time with a few second hesitation. Still, it was an answer.

"And it felt good, and maybe you've never felt that way before, kinda like you're flying and free." Anya's immediate hum had her nuzzling the top of her friend's head, arms gently stroking up and down her back as her heart fell, her suspicions almost confirmed. "And the person you had sex with left, like, really soon after, didn't they?"

Her friend went still in her arms, all tense and quiet, but Raven wasn't about to be deterred, arms shifting to hold Anya closer. "Honey, you would have felt most of this with or without them here. I promise...would have been better if they were here to help you through this, but I promise, the way you're feeling? It's not all on you. It's not your fault." Raven whispered, only receiving a scoff in response, Anya clearly not convinced. Entirely too stubborn for her own good. "I know when I'd experience sub drop and I was on my own, I'd usually feel tired, and cranky...but I'd also, most of the time, feel worthless and broken and pathetic. That wasn't the truth, though, and if your head's buzzing with that shit, then it's not true for you, either. It's just your mind going through withdrawal after all those chemicals it released to make you high as a kite during sex. It's not fun, and it's not your fault."

That, it seemed, spurred a reaction, Anya pulling her head away, those tired eyes scanning her face with newfound hope. "This happened to you? You're like me?"

Raven leaned her head forward, resting their foreheads together. "Well, I'm what folks would call a switch, cheekbones. I'm good with either role. But yeah, I've been right where you are now, I know how much it hurts. I know how low you can feel. So trust me...it's not on you. Okay, princess?"

"Not a princess." Anya grumbled, lower lip jutting out slightly in an adorable pout that was too cute not to laugh at.

"Tough shit, cheekbones, you are today. Now let me take care of you and get you washed up, alright?" She slowly worked at getting Anya up to a kneel; it was a bit of a slow process, but at least Anya was compliant.

"What about Luna?" Raven recoiled a little, unsure what Anya meant for a moment, before realizing Anya probably had no idea what time it was, and thought she might be stealing her away from her girlfriend; she and Luna always spent Saturday afternoons together, after all. It was one of their routines, to keep them connected even when their lives got busy.

It was still early enough in the morning, but Anya was right. This could stretch into the afternoon easily.

"Well, I could tell her the truth and invite her over. She's firmly on the domme side of things, so she would be a hundred percent on board with me being here with you. She'd want you to be taken care of, for sure. But if you didn't want her over, she'd totally understand and accept that, too, it wouldn't be a big deal. I promise." Raven stated, hoping Anya would understand that she couldn't just outright lie to her girlfriend. "Or I could just tell her you're having an emergency and you need me, but that could get her scared, and she could tell others, and...yeah. I think it's better to keep this in-house for now."

"Are you sure she'd be okay with....you know. I wouldn't be intruding?" Anya asked as Raven got her off the bed and to her feet, her friend's knees wobbling a bit as she tried to get balanced in the heels that were still laced up snug.

Raven couldn't help but give Anya a quick once over, figuring whoever got with Anya last night was a lucky motherfucker. One she wanted to strangle a little bit, too.

She knelt in front of Anya and got to work on removing her shoes for her. "She'd probably reward me, honestly. Besides, she gets that sub drop can happen at any time after sex, so you've gotta check up on your sub, or at least have someone el..." Raven's mind froze for a moment, hands on Anya's left ankle, remembering that Clarke had been the one to send her here, that Clarke had been reading up on BDSM in recent months and sending loads of questions her way. That Clarke had done a few play sessions recently, even. Of all the others at the party she could have asked, she'd asked Raven, the most experienced in handling all this. It was too much of a coincidence to ignore.

"Raven? Is everything alright?" Anya asked, stealing Raven back from her thoughts.

"Everything's peachy, princess." She noted with as much calm as she could manage while thinking about her hands around Clarke’s neck. Raven quickly finished untying the laces of her shoes. "Now lift up your feet for me, let's get you out of these death traps."

It didn't take long after that to whisk Anya into the bathroom and get the shower going, feeling thankful Anya's apartment had a nice one with a spot she could sit. Not that it'd feel great, her raw ass probably stinging a little, but it was better than Anya standing and losing her balance or something worse. Raven knew on some rare occasions, sub drops would sap all the energy out of her, and she would hardly have the strength to get out of bed, let alone stay upright for long enough to shower. Better safe than sorry.

As much as she wanted to run over to Finn's and strangle Clarke, something told her that she'd find herself in a similarly conflicting situation over there, so she decided to stick around and help the one she knew needed her support and comforting, at least for now.

But she'd have her answers. If Clarke really was with Anya last night, then she'd goddamn answer for it.

* * *

 

"Here's some hot chocolate, it should help." Raven said, handing her the mug. With how wrapped up she was in fluffy blankets, her arms were a little restricted, but she still managed to take it and bring it up to her lips.

"You know I don't like being coddled." She mumbled, taking a sip of the delightful beverage.

"Yeah, I know. But I'd bet dollars to donuts you're more upset about _not_ being upset by me coddling you. It's okay if you feel a bit of a shift from the norm during this, it's to be expected." Raven let out, getting onto the couch beside her and snuggling up with her. Raven's mere proximity calmed her nerves and chased away some of the chill, the cocoa managing the rest.

Anya bit her lip, unsure how true those words were. It didn't make sense for anything to have changed. There was no reason for it, even if Raven might, underneath everything, be a little bit right given how at ease all the affection had her feeling. "Hardly."

"I'm serious. You know how independent I am, how stubborn I am. I don't take shit from anyone, and if I can do something myself, I will, even if I have to fight off the people trying to help out." Raven insisted, offering a bit of an exaggerated profile, but it was more or less accurate. "And yet...when I sub drop, I just want Luna there with me, to hold me, and take care of me, and even if I know she can't kiss everything better and make all the symptoms go away from just that, it won't stop me from wanting her to try. This shit fucks with our heads, makes us feel vulnerable. It's only natural to want to feel safe and comforted by the one you share a bond with. I mean...I'm not Clarke, but I'll do in a pinch."

Anya knew she looked absurd, eyes bugged out and mouth gaping. "You...how...?"

"Wasn't hard to put the pieces together once I knew what to look for." Raven offered with a shrug, the downturn of her voice sending a spike of shame burning in her chest.

Because of course it was shameful for the lesbian to lust after the straight girl. Even if Clarke was actually bi, Raven probably didn't know that, so of course she'd fall into the pathetic lesbian cliché. And really, maybe she really did deserve that. "You must think I'm such an idiot."

"No, princess, no. She's your best friend, you trust her, and she's pretty. If she was up for it, and I guess she was, I wouldn't blame you at all. You deserve good things, you deserve to be happy." Raven countered quickly, voice trailing off a bit at the end there. All she had to do was meet Raven's gaze to give the woman the answers she seemed to be looking for. "And she didn't leave you happy last night, at least not in that way. But I could help you find someone who could. I just need you to be brave and have a little faith in me."

Online dating just was not her strong suit, and it attracted far too many fetishists for her liking. Anya had opened her mouth, about to dismiss Raven's offer, when her front door opened, Luna finally arriving after Raven's texts to her nearly an hour prior.

"Hey, babes. Sorry, had to grab some stuff before I could hop by." Luna said, carrying a large bag over to the couch, leaning over the backrest to kiss Raven. "You two stay comfy, I'll plate up some of this takeout."

Food definitely did sound good. She hadn't eaten since a little before five in the evening yesterday, it was a wonder that her stomach hadn't eaten itself.

"You're the best, hun." Raven called out, running a hand through Anya's hair. "I was just telling Anya I could set her up on a dating site."

Anya rolled her eyes at the clear attempt to tag-team her on the topic. "Raven..."

"I'm just saying, I've got three relatively light weeks ahead of me. I could run your profile, screen messages, keep the chasers away, only send you the good ones. You could send messages to ones you wanted to, as well, you know? It could work out." Raven's offer was intriguing, but still, online dating was an unnerving realm.

"Or, you know, I could arrange a few blind dates with some singles I know.  Can't promise they'll be perfect, but they're decent women.  Trans friendly, too. All you'd have to do is show up, and if you're not comfortable with them, you bail." Luna added as she rounded into the living room with food, setting two of the plates on the living room table before setting Anya's on the side table nearest her. "Raven said you like to head down to the food truck on Park and Fifth when you're stressed. I thought you could use some comfort food."

Anya stared at the familiar pulled pork sandwich, heart warming at the thoughtfulness. She and Luna had never been very close, Anya only managing a manner of friendliness with her because Raven was dating her. With how busy she'd been in the past few months, she'd barely done more than greet Luna and share a few words. "You shouldn't have, I'm sorry for the trouble."

Raven shuffled her over a bit to her right, creating enough room for Luna to squeeze in beside her. Even if she didn't know Luna too well, the kindness shining in her eyes set Anya at ease.

"Psh, no worries. It wasn't any trouble, and my girl was hungry anyways. When Raven goes through a drop, I spoil her a bit with her favourite things, and that helps her...when we take our subs to those highs, what we affectionately call 'subspace', it's our responsibility to care for them when they hit their drops, to care for them until they balance back out again. Yours isn't here to care for you, hasn't left anything behind to help you, so _we_ will, Anya. And if I had a chance to make you comfortable at no cost to myself, and didn't take it, I couldn't live with myself." Luna's low, calm voice was soothing, as was the woman's hand at the back of her neck, the gentle massage pulling out the tension there.

It was hard to fathom a scenario where she deserved any of this, yet there she was, surrounded by two women insistent on caring for her.  No agendas, nothing for them to gain, just both of them spending an afternoon with her, keeping her warm, fed, and comfortable. Wrapping her in her favourite blanket, cuddling her on her comfiest couch, putting on her favourite scented candles and the music she used to calm herself after her most stressful days.

None of it was normal, there was no precedent for any of it, and yet there they were. Treating her like she mattered, like she was worth it.

And maybe, through the thick brambled defenses of her mind, maybe a little bit of that managed to sneak through. Maybe if they felt she was worth it, maybe others could. And if what Raven said was true, that she was a little compromised at the moment, she couldn't exactly reach out and find someone who she was mutually worthy of, but letting Luna reach out, and trusting Raven to background check them? Maybe that was a possibility.

"I'll uh...okay. I'll go along with it. But only if Raven double checks them for me." No sooner had the words spilled from her mouth had Raven started celebrating, performing this absurd little dance beside her. Honestly, it was a bit absurd how many of her friends were adorable.

"Yesss! You won't regret it!" Raven cheered, lifting her arms to halfway wrap around her head. Anya rolled her eyes, bracing herself as Raven's lips pressed against her temple. "This'll work out, I know it will."

The pure thrill and excitement radiating from Raven had hope blooming in her chest, and for the first time in a while, she had a feeling she could trust it. That she could believe it'd work out, that she could maybe find a real girlfriend for once.

Anya hadn't realized her eyes growing wet, but Luna's thumb grazing just under her eye to catch a tear had her gasping at the open vulnerability. "Thank you for trusting us, Anya. We'll help get you where you want to be." Luna whispered, words so warm and reassuring. "Now eat up, kitten, and think about what you want to watch first. Raven told me you like to host mini-marathons on Netflix, and I figure that's not a bad way to spend an afternoon, huh?"

What had started off as a horrible day had somehow, miraculously, transformed into something promising, and warm, and safe. Anya leaned into Luna, body relaxing the moment the woman's arm wrapped around her shoulder and held her close. "It's wonderful, thank you."

Raven pressed up against her other side, her soft cheek nuzzling against Anya's shoulder. "You're family, babe. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten. Gotta keep up, princess."

Aggravating as the pet name was, Raven and Luna had managed to center her and annihilate the loneliness and emptiness she'd felt all night and that morning. No, family wasn't too strong a word to use after such brilliant shows of care and empathy, and Anya would make sure that both were a bigger part of her life from then onward.

With what courage she could band together, she turned to Raven and pulled her closer, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek. "Maybe we'll have to watch some Lilo and Stitch, then. I suppose I have a lot to learn."

Raven's features softened, clearly having read between the lines for her message. That she accepted they were family, that Raven was family to her, now, too. That she wanted to open herself, to learn, if they'd help her through. After coming out, she'd more or less lost all of her family aside from Lexa, so it's not as if she really knew how it was supposed to work, but she wanted to.

"Nice! I knew I liked you for some reason or another. Babe, if you'll do the honors?" Raven asked, tossing Luna the remote as she tugged Anya close and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Thank you for letting us in, I know it wasn't easy. I've got your back, Anya...and I'll help you find someone safe for you, who you can be happy with. And I'll talk to Clarke if you want."

Anya shook her head. "I'll handle Clarke, but...thank you. Today's meant more than you know."

"Mmmn, too true." Raven added, reaching out to take the plate in Luna's hand and set it on Anya's lap. "There we are. Gotta have some food for our marathon."

Anya bit into her pulled pork sandwich and let out a happy hum, thinking maybe, just maybe, this was her turning point.

* * *

 

Sundays were, despite the phonetic similarities, generally not fun days for Clarke growing up, usually full of chores and homework. Now in university, little had changed on that front, though she'd ironed out a bit of a deal over the past year or so. On occasional Sundays, she and Anya would gather, have breakfast, hang out a bit, and then help each other with chores. It'd be a little slower going, but a lot more enjoyable having Anya around.

She usually wasn't apart from Anya for so long, which sounded kind of pathetic considering she'd last seen her a day and a half ago at most, but from the moment she woke up on Sunday, Clarke missed her best friend.

So maybe she rushed through her usual morning routines so that she could get to Anya's door before ten o'clock rolled around. Except when she knocked, Anya didn't answer. Not unheard of, knowing Anya liked listening to music in the mornings, so she'd knocked again before checking the crowning for the spare key.

The absolutely missing spare key, it turned out.

Flooded with panic, Clarke pulled out her phone and started up a new message to Anya, unsure she had time to scour her apartment for her own copy of the key.

 **Clarke**  
_Hey! Tried your door with no answer. No spare key either. Are you okay?_

Her foot had tapped a veritable trench in the hallway in the minute or two it took for a response to filter in. Her relief, however, was short-lived, quickly contorting into confusion.

 **Sweetheart**  
_Apologies, out shopping with Luna. Took the spare to make keys for her and Raven._

She was missing something; she had to be, because Anya barely even knew Luna. Hell, aside from the week and a half Raven stayed at Anya's, she wasn't sure the two had had an actual legitimate conversation that wasn't small talk.

"What the fuck is going on?" She mused to herself, tapping out another message, hoping it could bring some clarity.

 **Clarke**  
_Oh cool! What'd you get up to yesterday anyway?_

Really, she'd been gone a day. A single day. There was no other explanation than something had gone down Saturday that had changed things pretty drastically among some of her friends.

Not that she was displeased, or upset, or anything like that. It was good for Anya to have more close friends. It's just usually, she was in the loop when it came to these things, especially since Anya tended to trust slowly.

 **Sweetheart**  
_Not a lot. Spent most of the day on the couch watching movies. A nice lazy day._

None of it added up, and honestly, Anya had never beaten around the bush like this before. Usually she went into a lot more detail. Besides, she'd sent Raven to check in on her yesterday, and Anya was getting her a key to her apartment, so they clearly spent some time together. Yet, no mention of it.

It wasn't like Anya to be so evasive, and that was worrying.

 **Clarke**  
_Good to hear! Have fun shopping!_

As soon as she'd sent off her message, Clarke scrolled through her contacts and dialed Raven, knowing her friend's texts could be near indecipherable sometimes, and she needed some clarity.

Raven picked up on the third ring.

"Y'ello?" By the sound of things, she'd caught Raven in the middle of either a late breakfast or a mid-morning snack. That woman was a black hole sometimes, Clarke wasn't sure where all the food went.

"Raven, hey! How's your morning going?" Clarke asked, not really sure how to start things off, only knowing she needed some answers, and Raven would maybe have them.

She heard some chewing on the other end for a moment, because of course Raven wouldn't stop eating just because she was on a phone call.  "Pretty decent. Anya came by with breakfast before heading out with Luna. I'm eating the leftovers." Raven stated nonchalantly, as if Anya coming by for breakfast wasn't out of the blue. "That's why you're calling, right? Anya?"

Clarke froze for a moment, unsure why Raven thought as much. "Oh, well, I..."

"I mean, it makes sense. Follow up on what you asked me to do yesterday. Checking in on your girl. Right?" Clarke just barely held back her sigh of relief at Raven being on the same page as her.

"Yeah, yeah.  How was she yesterday when you stopped by?" In all honestly, when she'd left Anya Friday evening, it'd been a little weird and brusque, but she'd felt way too intimate with her best friend than she was supposed to be.

The sex had been one thing, but even it'd brought her way more non-contact orgasms than she'd ever had, and Anya's oral game at the end had been on an entirely new level.  But the control she'd had over Anya, the vulnerability her best friend showed in surrendering to her pleasure like she had, it'd woken something inside of her. The promises that had spilled from her lips caught up with her when Anya asked to cuddle, and it just felt too real.

Or, more accurately, it felt like how sex with Bellamy or Finn was supposed to feel. It felt like how being with Wells had felt before he moved across the country. Yet, after Saturday, she knew there was something major missing with Finn, and that left her with far more questions than answers.

"Oh, she was miserable. Terrible. Like death warmed over. Super concerning shit." How Raven had the gall to say that so casually, to follow it with another bite, was outside the scope of Clarke's mental capacity. If Anya was in trouble, Raven should have told her, should have called her over. Clarke's heart jumped, fear pooling in her gut at the mere concept of Anya hurting and sick. Every bone in her body demanded she move, that she find Anya, her brain only catching up seconds later with the knowledge that Anya was well enough to be out shopping. Even if it was with Luna. "God, her turnovers are so damn tasty. Does she make the filling herself? And they're so flaky!"

Still, Raven's side note on Anya' baking abilities gave her enough time to rebound from the shock, to find her words again. "Oh my god, Raven, is she okay now? What happened?!"

"Uh, babe... _you_ happened." Raven countered, her casual facade falling away to genuine confusion. "You pulled a rookie move and left her hanging. Her first time in subspace, floating around in it for well over an hour, and you leave her to deal with the drop on her own? After you got what _you_ came for? Not cool, Griffin. Seriously shitty move, and I'd say you're lucky I could handle the fallout if you hadn't, you know, hand-picked me for morning after duties."

Clarke felt sick to her stomach at the onslaught of horrifying realizations, rushing to her kitchen sink as her gag reflex spasmed, acid burning a path up her throat. Just as she reached the countertop, she spewed into the sink, vomit searing her mouth on its way out, leaving her heaving for breath as she leaned her head under the faucet, waiting to see if more came.

 _Subspace? I knew she was a little hazy that night, but...fuck. Fuck fuckfuckfuck! God, she must have been so messed up, and I...I wasn't there for her. I promised I would, but I wasn't..._ She felt another wave of vomit coming up and let it burst out of her, wincing from the searing sting as she fought for breath. All those promises, all the intimacy that'd scared her away from Anya left her best friend alone and hurting, and that knowledge alone had her heart feeling like it was collapsing in on itself.

After a few seconds of dry heaving and no fluid, she rinsed her mouth out and brought her phone back to her ear, not sparing the time to calm her breathing, needing Raven to know that wasn’t what she intended. That’s not anything she could have ever intended.

“God, Raven, _no_ , I...I could never do that to her. I’d never...” Clarke cried, head caught in a frenzy of fears, unsure which to prioritize, if she could even manage it. To Raven’s credit, she was silent on the other end. “Raven, I’d never just...abandon her. And I’d never use you like that. I asked you because she didn’t know anyone else at the party well enough to trust, and I didn’t want her to be lonely, knowing I’d be gone all day and we usually spent Saturdays together. I knew I was bailing early, but I...fuck, I had no idea that’s what happened. I swear to you, Raven...I swear on my father...I chose you because you’re her friend. I thought she was okay when I left her. I swear, if I...I would never have...god, she must hate me! I...”

“Fucking hell...calm your tits, Clarke.” Raven’s resigned words broke through her increasingly jumbled stream of thought. “Even if I believe that...and I want to, I do...you still fucked her up. She told me she’ll talk to you when she wants to, that I should butt out, but just...you fucked up. You broke her trust, babe. So don’t barrage her with messages and calls. She’ll come to you when she’s good and ready, but you gotta be her bestie again, not the girl experimenting with her, ‘kay?”

Clarke bit back the reflexive denial that she'd been experimenting, knowing it wasn't appropriate to use this moment as a coming out event. Still, she hadn't been experimenting. They were friends with benefits, they knew exactly what was going on, or at least, Clarke thought so. Apparently, she'd been dead wrong, inadvertently escalating their dynamic and hurting Anya in the process.

To think, Anya had trusted her. Her best friend, who'd been hurt so many times before with partners during anal sex, had trusted her to be safe and take care of her, and Clarke had failed in that duty catastrophically. So even if she wasn't experimenting, it was only right to scale back their arrangement until she'd earned Anya's trust again.

"Yeah, yeah, I...I couldn't even think of being anything other than her friend after this." Clarke admitted, knowing that as much as she wanted to make it right for Anya, it wasn't her call, and it certainly wasn't the time to even think of taking initiative with affection. She needed to be safe for Anya. "And Raven...again, I'm so sorry. I'll make this up to her _and_ you, I promise."

There was silence on the phone, each agonizing second making her chest and throat feel tighter and tighter, knowing she didn't deserve to be let off the hook, but that maybe Raven would give her a chance anyways.

"This Friday. Seven o'clock. You're making dinner for me and Luna. You're bringing a damn good bottle of wine. You're gonna apologize to us in person for needing us to pick up your slack on Saturday, and you're going to learn how to never make this mistake again. Ever. Deal?" Raven finally let out, her offer more than generous given the circumstances.

"Deal. Thank you." Clarke answered, earning a cluck of Raven's tongue in turn.

"Don't thank me. It's gonna be a long, long night. Might take 'til sometime Saturday. You'll do a scene with us, and you'll do as you're told. You'll learn firsthand what it all feels like, and we'll show you how to be responsible." Raven insisted, a pit forming in Clarke's stomach at the assertion that she'd have to submit.

She'd done it once before, and while it wasn't bad, it wasn't exactly her speed. Additionally, that time had all been under her explicit control; the idea of Luna and Raven controlling the scene, and her likely only having a safe word to end it? It wasn't the most appealing situation.

Still, she'd done so much reading on BDSM and on experiences of submissives, and she'd still absolutely missed all the cues Anya likely showed. She needed more than just written words, she needed to see and feel, she needed to understand.

"I understand. I'll be there."

"Okay, then. Just...be patient, do your research, and back off of Anya until she comes to you. I'll see you on Friday." Raven said before ending the call, leaving Clarke feeling detached from her normal life for the first time.

Usually, she spent more than a few hours during the week with Anya, with Raven, but they were no longer in her reach. She'd never done too well with being alone before, but maybe it was a fitting consequence given how Anya must have felt between when she'd left and when Raven had arrived. Maybe it was what she deserved.

She could only hope that come the end of next weekend, she'd have her people back with her, but that might be a tad optimistic. She needed Anya in her life, so there really wasn't another option aside from going gritting down and doing what needed to be done. Clarke returned to her apartment and sunk down on her couch, unsure where to start, just knowing that she needed to.

If she wanted her life back, she needed to.

* * *

 

Anya wasn't quite sure how a week could manage to feel like a month, but when the Sunday after Clarke's last contact with her rolled around, Anya felt like she'd aged with how much had gone on over those seven days.

In hindsight, it was hard to fathom how she'd fit five dates into such a brief time-span, but in the end she felt better for it. Nearly all of them had made plans with her for second dates, and that sort of interest had her a lot more confident, having mostly shaken off the effects of the previous Friday night's incident.

It was fairly difficult to feel repulsive when four other women were legitimately interested in her, after all.

Combine that with classes, a few outings with Raven and Luna, a trip to the movies to see Black Panther, and two solo Netflix marathons, and she'd been busy. Outrageously busy, but happily so, even if she knew such a hectic pace wasn't anything she was interested in over a drawn out period.

But as it had stretched on, what made it all seem so long was the time without Clarke there to share it all with. Outside of a few text messages the previous Sunday letting her know what she was doing, and that she needed time and space, she hadn't gotten in contact with her best friend. Which, it turned out, created a bit of an eye-opening experience on how central Clarke had been in her life before, and how much she missed her when they were apart, even if she knew it was good that she was broadening her horizons and meeting new people.

She just missed her best friend.

It was a normal enough emotion, even after what had happened, so when Raven called that morning to tell her that Clarke had made it through the other side of their trial run no worse for wear outside of some fatigue and achiness, Anya didn't waste much time sending Clarke a text, welcoming her over for breakfast.

It felt like forever since they'd been able to have a morning together like that, and Anya wanted to at least try and get that back.

Maybe she had her hopes a little high in expecting a swift response; she knew Clarke got up early enough on Sundays, and starting breakfast as late as she was shouldn't have given her best friend ample time to respond, but it wasn't until their breakfast burritos were ready to be taken off the grill that she heard a knock at her door.

It was peculiar. She wasn't expecting any company aside from Clarke, and Clarke never knocked, ever. 

Anya made her way to the door and pulled it open, a visibly penitent Clarke Griffin waiting for her on the other side. Not wanting their breakfast to be ruined, she gestured for Clarke to come in and made her way back into the kitchen. "Come on in, you dork."

She quickly checked the burritos, ensuring they weren't harmed by the extra few seconds of grilling before plating them up and bringing them to her small dining table where she'd set out a bowl of berries and two glasses of orange juice.

Clarke, on the other hand, just looked hazy and lost, tears brimming in her eyes, leaving Anya wondering if Raven hadn't been a little off in her assessment. "Clarke?"

Her best friend snapped out of her stupor and shook her head, wiping away the tears. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good."

"Hardly. What's wrong?" She asked, approaching her best friend with more than a little concern. Just the close proximity had Clarke leaning closer for a split second before seeming to correct herself. Which, really, was all the evidence she needed. "I needed to make sure our breakfast wasn't ruined, you goober. Come here, bring it in."

They always hugged whenever they'd been apart, or at least ninety percent of the time, so with all the heightened emotions and the last week of distance, maybe it made sense for Clarke to worry that their usual routine was changed even more.

Clarke was hesitant in stepping into her hug, but sunk hard against she wrapped her arms around her best friend, body trembling as she clung to Anya. "I'm so sorry. I hurt you, I abandoned you, and I'm so, so sorry, Anya." Clarke cried, hot tears seeping into Anya's sweater.

In all their time as friends, it'd always been Clarke consoling her, so with the tables turned, Anya wasn't quite sure how to handle it. Especially since it was over something done to her. Across their friendship, neither of them had done anything serious enough to be worthy of such a display of seeking forgiveness.

Hell, she wasn't really big on forgiveness to begin with, but this was Clarke. They loved each other.

So maybe she just had to swallow any discomfort and get through it, knowing Clarke hadn't meant it, and hating seeing her so heartbroken. "Shhh, darling. I know you are. You wouldn't be you if you weren't remorseful for hurting someone. I know you're sorry, and I know you won't do it again." She spoke, hoping to relieve some of her best friend's anguish, but Clarke just clung tighter, head shaking against her shoulder as she cried. "Clarke, you're my best friend still. I love you. We'll be okay. Now, why don't we have breakfast, and you can tell me about your week?"

Clarke reluctantly separated from her after a few seconds, looking entirely sheepish as she wiped at her eyes. "Honestly, nothing really happened."

"I heard you, Raven, and Luna played around a little." Anya probed, not having heard much of anything about Clarke the past week aside from that, but she did know of Raven's hands-on education session. Raven and Luna, however, were both tight-lipped, not telling her anything more than Clarke got through it and wouldn't make the same mistake again, which was good enough for her.

Still, extra details could be nice. She needed to know Clarke was alright. She was still her utterly gorgeous self, but Anya could see the exhaustion and weariness as clear as day. It was clear that Clarke wasn't exactly at a hundred percent just yet, and wasn't really all that close, which was worrisome.

"God, I, uh...yeah, it was...illuminating. Definitely illuminating." Clarke answered, letting out a couch and clearing her through, a rosy blush rising to her cheeks as she took a seat across from Anya. "And I'm pretty sure I'll be feeling it for a week. I still feel like death warmed over, still really achy and tired and...yeah."

Anya sliced her burrito in half and shoveled a few pieces of fruit onto her plate with her fork. "I take it they showed you what subspace felt like?" Anya asked, earning a reluctant nod. She wasn't too surprised, though it was very much outside of Clarke's comfort zone to take on that role. Anya couldn't imagine it'd been quick or easy getting her to that point. "And you went through sub drop?"

"They left me chained to the bed when they were done with me, and...it took a while to come down from the high, and I was alright for a bit but then everything just..." Clarke gesticulated , her frown only growing deeper as she shook her head in frustration. "...yeah, I can't really describe it. I called for them, I remember that much...and they told me they only waited ten minutes before coming to me, to give me a glimpse at how harrowing it can feel to be alone when you're like that, but it felt like an hour. And I just...all I could think of, when I was able to think straight again, was I left you alone for over half a day..."

Clarke voiced trailed off, those familiar blue eyes swimming in tears again, all full of grief and wonder, as if silently asking how she'd managed. Or, given Clarke's tendency for self deprecation, how Anya didn't hate her.

She wasn't going to coddle Clarke with a kind retelling of events, and she wasn't going to pretend it wasn't awful. Strong friendships were built on honesty, and they'd always been good at that. Maybe Clarke just needed some of that from her. So while a part of her wanted to wrap Clarke up and comfort her, and build her back up again, she knew she had to stick to words, that words were more appropriate for them after everything.

"It was one of the worst, longest nights of my life. If you knew that's what would happen, if you understood what we'd done together, you wouldn't have left me alone. You did, so one I understood what had happened, once Raven explained it to me, I knew you hadn't meant to hurt me. We stumbled into it together, and I got hurt." Anya stated firmly, holding Clarke's gaze the entire time before allowing herself to blink. "I got hurt, but it won't happen again."

Clarke nodded vigorously as she bit into her burrito, eyes fluttering shut as she let out a moan of contentment. "Oh my god, how do you always get the bacon just right?" Clarke took another moment to savor her cooking before meeting Anya's mirthful gaze again. "But...yeah, I get it. I just think I'm gonna need more time to process it all, and just...yeah. I want to get back to good with you, and I know we will, it's just the time between now and whenever that happens...I'm probably going to annoy the heck out of you."

Anya laughed. "Well, that'll make two, then. Raven's been bugging me all week to go on dates, and while..."

"Dates?" Clarke interjected, eyes wide and mouth full. Her best friend swallowed her food and cocked her head to the side a bit. "Plural?"

Anya hummed in acknowledgement. "Yeah, she's been intense about it, cramming as many as she could into the past week instead of spacing them out. I've been on five so far, and four of them are promising, and I do like going on dates and meeting these people, but...she just won't quit on the notion that she'll find me a girlfriend as soon as possible or her name isn't Raven Reyes. Obnoxious doesn't begin to describe her, so trust me, you'll be a welcome reprieve from her hijinks."

"Wow. Uh...yeah, sounds intense." Clarke stared hard at her half-eaten burrito for a moment, and Anya could practically see the gears turning in Clarke's head for whatever reason. "Who's the leading candidate? How was that date?"

It was nice to see things getting closer to casual. Even if Clarke's language was a little stiff, she could see her best friend was making an effort. It made sense to be rusty in that sort of conversation, given she hadn't dated in a bit over a year.

"So far I think I'm clicking with Niylah the best. She took me out to one of the hills outside the city. She brought a boatload of blankets and some pillows, and we just...camped out in the back of her truck. We stargazed, talked, cuddled...it was simple, but it was really nice to have something so low stress, and someone who isn't scared of silence. And she's a fantastic kisser, so that doesn't hurt. I guess I'll see if she works out in the long run but for now...she's the best of the bunch so far." She relayed, happy to just have someone to talk to about this who wasn't Raven or Luna, given their tendency to overreact. To Raven, she may as well start prepping her and Niylah's wedding, given her friend's enthusiasm.

By the time she finished speaking, Clarke's plate was empty aside from a few chunks of strawberries, Clarke just hazily nodding along, cheeks curiously tinted pink. "Yeah, yeah. I, uh...that sounds really great. It all sounds great. You deserve that kind of date. You deserve the world."

"Thank you. It's been a while since I've dated, and the last time was a disaster, so it's nice to actually meet people who are good, and accepting. Gives me hope." Anya added with a smile, happy to see the softness and acceptance in Clarke's eyes. She'd hoped that bringing up that topic wouldn't add any strain, and Clarke was living up to her title of best friend. It had her feeling so much lighter, enough that when Clarke got up from her seat, she didn't feel a lick of concern.

"You deserve someone who will accept every little bit of you, and cherish you. Nothing less." Clarke continued, swallowing hard, her gaze shifting around the room momentarily. "Shit, I really don't mean to cut this short, I want to stay and talk, but I promised Raven I'd meet up with her for a check-in last night, and she'll be on my ass if I don't show. Can I come by later, maybe? I'd love to keep catching up."

Anya nodded, pushing aside the bit of disappointment that had her chest feeling a little tight, knowing Raven had been serious about her endeavour with Clarke. She didn't want to get in the way. "Of course, I'm free all day."

"Want me to see if Luna can come by to keep you company?" The offer was sweet, and appreciated, Anya nodding as she rose. "I'm sorry, again. I just have to go."

She rolled her eyes and gestured Clarke to come in for another hug. "Say hi to Raven for me."

Clarke strode over, much more confident this time around in wrapping Anya up in her embrace. It was better this way; Clarke was a fantastic hugger, holding her just right and always smelling so nice. "I will. Thank you so much for breakfast, and...and for loving me."

"Of course, Clarke." Anya let out, fighting a frown as Clarke pulled away, already missing the contact. "See you soon?"

"I promise." Clarke's mouth opened as if to say something else, but her best friend just nodded and waved and made for the door.

It was a curious exit, but despite the immediate absence she felt once the door shut, Anya was just relieved that she and Clarke were still good, that they could still be friends, and close, without issue. That Clarke understood about her moving on from their arrangement to something more legitimate. It was a good thing, something that ensured Clarke had her back going forward and wouldn't be self-flagellating over it all.

She sat back down at her table and loaded up her plate with the rest of the fruit, knowing it wasn't a replacement for Clarke's special brand of sweetness, but it was something, and did need to be eaten.  She mentally worked through her options for the rest of the morning, hoping Raven and Clarke's meeting would be fruitful for them both, and that Clarke would make a speedy return.

She'd missed her best friend, and didn't want to go so long without her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still October 31st somewhere! Anywho, i hope you all enjoyed this part, knowing how sad the end was last time around. One more part left after this!


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